


Reparation

by Zerabeth



Series: To Love a Blood Mage [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Circle Mage - Freeform, Circle of Magi, Comfort, ENJOY IT, Fluff, Fucking Mages, Gen, Humor, Kinloch Hold, Magic is pretty cool, Not even sure what this is anymore, Reader is aslo very angry, reader is a badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerabeth/pseuds/Zerabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sitting in your corner, minding your own business.. several things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reparation

 You had found you spent a lot of time hanging around Anders since his solitary was over, he was very.. _friendly_. You found a lot more about Anders and some mages than you ever _wanted_ to know.

 

 You also found that your corner was slowly filling with tomes from the secret room you had discovered, which meant there was a lot of books to hide, as many of the titles were banned by the Chantry.

 

 Currently, you were flipping through a tome that went into great detail about blood magic and its many uses, as practiced in the Tevinter Imperium. It was an interesting read, by all means, but the constant curling over the book to hide it from wandering Templar was getting extremely annoying.

 

 You let out a breath, pushing your bangs out of your eyes, mentally noting the fact you needed a haircut, then the pain in your chest resurfaced once more. Since the talk with your mentor, it was less obvious, but it remained, a constant reminder of the abandonment.

 

 Jowan had always cut your hair for you, as you were constantly worried about doing it yourself, and Jowan always did clean cuts, making sure it was all even.

 

 Over the months, you had become increasingly aware of how dependent on Jowan you were, and mulled over if that was one of the reasons he had begun avoiding you. With a shuddering breath You rested your head against the pages of the book you had against your knees.

 

 "Now, when I said I wanted to see you bent over a chair, this is _not_ what I meant." A certain blonde interrupted your self-imposed suffer session, you looked up with a glare.

 

 "Is everything that comes out of your mouth dirty?" You grumbled, scowling.

 

 "Of course, I couldn't get so many people in bed otherwise." Anders winked.

 

 "With that little trick of yours? I beg to differ, dear." Edlyn commented, poking her head around a bookshelf. You groaned.

 

 "Don't encourage him! His ego is big enough _without_ your input, _mamae_." You used the endearment as a curse as you threw a particularly heavy novel at the tall woman's head.

 

 With an evil cackle, your mentor disappeared once more.

 

 "Hey, have you two ev-" You cut the trouble maker off with a hand to his mouth.

 

 "Do. _Not_. Finish. That. Question." Holding his hands up in mock surrender, you let your hand drop but kept your gaze on the mage.

 

 "You know, I came in here for a reason." Anders Sat down in one of the chairs that you had against the wall, so Edy could read to you when you have nightmares.

 

 "Was it a good reason?" You received a grin in response and sighed, "Then get out, I want to finish this chapter before lunch, and you're distracting me." You made motions with your hands, shooing Anders away.

 

 Anders complained, whining your name and leaning his head on your desk. You huffed and moved several books around, allowing Anders to lay his head on your desk without any book corners bothering him.

 

 "Must you do this every day?" You wondered, absentmindedly running your fingers through Anders' blonde locks.

 

 "I don't do this _every_ day."

 

 "Practically."

 

 "Not my fault you have magic fingers, now if only I could get you to use them for _oth_ \- aah! Okay, I'll stop, no need to pull my hair." You grumbled, but continued running your hands through his hair regardless.

 

 The repetitive action was calming and allowed you a calm moment, away from the prying eyes of the others. You got a lot more privacy than most of the others, usually left alone, or ignored by the Templars or mages, especially without Jowan to get you into trouble. You hummed, thinking back to when Jowan had stolen Cullen's armor, the corners of your mouth lifted in a small smile.

 

 Soft snoring broke you out of your thoughts and you looked down, smiling as you took note of the sleeping mage. You couldn’t say it was a normal occurrence for Anders to fall asleep on your desk while you run your hands through his hair, but it happened often enough, as it helped calm the both of you. You from your night terrors, and him from his constant need to escape.

 

 You had known Anders since you first came to the circle, he was quite a bit older than you and seemed to be constantly causing trouble, but he was one of the few mages in the circle you spent time with besides Jowan.

 

 You cursed at yourself, for constantly having the brunette on your mind. You ran a hand through your hair and laid your head on of the desk, opposite Anders.

 

 A loud noise had you jumping off your chair, and consequently tripping over your chair and onto the floor. Looking around wildly, your eyes landed on the offender.

 

 “Jowan.” You breathed, slowly getting off the floor.

 

 “Little star, I-” Jowan made a move to leave, you practically launched yourself after him, grabbing the cuff of his sleeve.

 

 “Jowan, please. Just talk to me.” Your voice broke, a waterfall of emotions flooding through you. Desperation, anger, betrayal, hurt. Jowan froze, trying to look anywhere but your eyes. “I’m sorry I kissed you, I really am, but you were my best friend Jowan, I didn’t mean to push you away.”

 

 “I- Little star, you have nothing to be sorry about..” Jowan looked at his feet, mentally arguing with himself. “It’s not that, I just.. I need to get stronger, star. Compared to Amell, my magic..”

 

 “Jowan. Don’t compare yourself to her, don’t you dare.” You spoke quietly, but with determination. It was a similar conversation and you could have laughed at how familiar it was. Jowan always looked up to Amell, and would always compare himself to her, focusing on all his flaws and ignoring anything else.

 

 “You might not be Irvings star pupil, but you exceed in areas she does not.” You placed your hands on Jowan’s shoulders. “You are your own person, with your own strengths, just because they are different than others does not make you weak.” You repeat yourself over and over, hoping that if you said it enough times Jowan might actually believe it.

 

 “I’m sorry I avoided you.. Amell said-” Jowan gripped the edges of his sleeves, afraid to look you in the eyes. You narrowed your eyes, grip tightening.

 

 “Jowan..”

 

 “Amell said you were holding me back, and that- that if I stayed away from you and focused on my lessons, that I would improve.” You froze, a voice in your head screaming. _Of course_ it was Amell that caused this, she was practically the reason for everything that happened in the tower since she first arrived, always having to be the center of attention, always having to be the best, in first place. You inwardly cursed, your expression darkening. Jowan tentatively said your name, but you didn’t hear.

 

 Electricity crackled around your fists as you let go of Jowan, your aura whipping around the room. It woke Anders up and alerted most of the mages and Templars nearby to your anger.

 

 “What the _fuck_ happened while I was asleep?” Anders shouted, jumping up from his seat as you stormed past him.

 

 “ ** _Amell_.** ” Your voice was low, and a feral growl left your throat as you left your corner, stalking through the halls of the tower, ignoring the shouts that quickly surrounded you.

 

 “That’s.. _really_ hot.” Anders commented, whistling.

 

 “I don’t think this is time for that, dear.” Edlyn sent a look at the blonde mage, rushing to follow you. “Dearie, do slow down! You're going to hurt yourself.. or half the tower..” You ignored your mentor, focused solely on finding the reason for your abandonment.

 

 You could feel several auras brushing against your own, no doubt trying to force yours down. You growled and pushed back, several shocked gasps sounding in response. You briefly noticed several Templar running by you, and felt a slight shock, but nothing more as you continued through the halls.

 

 Approaching the entrance to the Apprentice’s Quarters, you found the red-headed demon spawn known as Irvings star pupil.

 

 “Wha-” You threw a force spell at Amell, cutting off her sentence and sending her flying across the room. Focusing on building your magic in your hands, several lightning bolts charged off of you, setting some of the bookshelves and tables on fire, and causing everyone else in the room to back away from you as quickly as they could.

 

 You could hear a commotion behind you, but kept your gaze on Amell. She was coughing, and a flash of red caught your eye.

 

 “What in the Maker’s n-” You threw a hand forward, sending a giant lightning bolt at Amell, cutting her off once more.

 

 “ ** _You_**. It’s _your_ _fault_. _You_ _told him_ to _avoid_ me. To _ignore_ me.”  You hardly recognized your own voice as you threw out your other hand, hitting her once more. She screamed, convulsing on the ground, attempting to throw up a barrier. You readied another spell but a large blast behind you sent you to your knees, gasping as your connection to the fade was severed, your magic snatched away. You looked behind you to see Gregoir and the Senior Enchanter, the former looking at you with a mix of pride and disappointment and the latter looking at you with shock and surprise before rushing to his pupil’s side.

 

 “Grab her, bring her to the dungeons. Solitary for now.” Gregoir’s voice sounded, sounded strained but forceful.

 

 As two Templars lifted you, your gaze returned to Amell. Glaring at her with the utmost hatred.

 

 “Next time, I’ll _kill_ you.” You said it so low, you weren’t sure if anyone even heard you, but her expression told you that your point got across.


End file.
